Fallen Son
by Impossiblypossiblee
Summary: What if it wasn't James "Bucky" Barnes that the Soviets were able to dig their claws into, but the famous Captain America instead. Had the KGB and HYDRA found the crashed plane history would have played out differently. The hope that the world once had would be diminished that much quicker. Steven Grant Rogers died the day that the plane crashed. The Winter Soldier was born out of


The realization struck him harder than anything ever did in his life. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to get his lungs working again. He was headed to New York. With missiles strapped onto this metal death trap. He can't make it there. If he does, everybody dies. If he doesn't…

If he doesn't…well then he's the only one that dies. He needs to breathe, to get some air into his system. He just needs a nice steady, deep breath. The gulp of air he takes is the complete opposite. It's shaky, it's brimming with emotion he won't admit, no not won't. That he _can't_admit. Captain America isn't allowed to get scared. Heroes aren't afraid. They're strong. They do what they need to.

They do their duty and they save the world.

It took more effort than it ever should have to steady his hand, to stop the shakes that were creeping up. He couldn't remember the last time he felt afraid like this. The feeling didn't sit well.

"Come in, this is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?" His voice was steadier than he thought it would. There was no tremble, no breaks. No trace of this fear swirling in his chest and slowly trying to consume him.

"Captain Rogers, what is your-"

"Steve! Is that you? Are you alright?" The millisecond of relief of speaking with an unfamiliar voice, the weight that had been lifted slammed right back down onto him. How he didn't fall through the planes ground he had no clue.

"Peggy! " His control over his voice was astounding. He could have made a killing as an actor. Well maybe not, before the serum he wouldn't be able to control a thing. What could he tell her? That this was the end? He needed some time, he needed to figure how he could tell her. Time. He needed to buy time. "Schmidt's dead." He had to be. There was no way anybody could survive that blast of light…whatever it was exactly. He wasn't going to question that cube. Didn't want to anger it…where it was. Could he even anger it? Probably.

"What about the plane?" The worry in her voice dragged him to reality. A spark of hesitation.

"That's a little bit tougher to explain." That hadn't been enough time. How could any of this be enough time? He needed more, needed to find a way to tell her. To hell with needing more time to _tell_ her, he needed more time to be with her. This was not fair. _It's not fair._

"Give me your coordinates. I'll find you a safe landing site." The worry in her voice raged in the fear building within her chest. It fed the fire, made it burn. He wanted out. Needed out.

"It-" The word was barely a whisper. Steve shut his eyes tight, letting out a ragged breath as quietly as possible. Composure. He needed to keep his composure. "It's not going to be a safe landing. I can try and force it down."

Peggy's response was too fast.

"I'll try and get Howard on the line; he'll know what to do." He was going to be ill. How could this be happening? First Buck. Now this.

"There's not enough time." He couldn't pause a moment to let Peggy speak. Time was up. "This thing's moving too fast. And it's heading for New York." Swallowing hard, Steve squeezed his eyes shut more. Maybe he could wake up from this nightmare. He'd open his eyes and he'd be back at camp. He'd be with Buck. He'd be with Peggy. The site of the clouds that greeted him as he opened his eyes slowly only served to cause his stomach to churn. "I gotta put her in the water."

"Please don't do this." The words were too fast. Desperate. "We have time. We can work it out." Daggers. It felt like daggers in his gut, in his chest. Daggers being embedded in his flesh and being twisted.

"Right now I'm in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer… A lot of people are gonna die. Peggy." The fear, the worry, the love he felt for Peggy and his heartbreak was creeping into his voice. But he had no choice. This _had_ to be done. "This is my choice."

No quick response. No words pleading, begging him to not do this. He was grateful for the pause, the silence as heavy as it was. He could do what needed to be done. He could do his duty, complete his mission. There was no choice. With a shaky hand, his hand barely wanted to move to grab his compass but it obeyed by some miracle. Popping it open he didn't dare let himself glance down, not yet. Lightly, gently, he placed it on the panel before him. The beautiful dame who was tough as twenty men looked back at him from that dammed picture. The breaking of his heart had to be audible with how much it pained him.

He had to do it now. Gripping the wheel tight, he jacked it forward. The view shifted from the sky and the clouds to the ocean clouded with ice. Swallowing hard, Steve found his mouth was so dry. A feeling he'd known many times before. When you got your head knocked around enough you were bound to wind up with swabs of cotton in your mouth. At least he'd always had Buck there to comfort him through it.

Not this time though.

The ground was coming too fast, too close. He shut his eyes to block it out completely. It was all a dream after all. A sick, twisted nightmare. They'd won the war. He was back at camp with his best girl and with his best pal.

"Peggy." He hoped the waver in his voice wasn't heard by her.

"I'm here." Her heart was broken. There was no way it wasn't. Her voice was so far away, so quiet. These were the last words he was going to hear and he couldn't bear to bring himself to say goodbye. Goodbyes are a terrible, harmful thing. The only time that they're ever good is when it's goodbye until tomorrow.

"I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance." The words carried everything he wanted to say but couldn't. The confessions he wanted to give, the love he wanted to profess. He couldn't do that to her. Not now. He couldn't lock her into his heart when he was going to his watery grave.

"Alright." He couldn't see the tears but God could he _hear_ them. He wanted anything but this. He would give anything for another ending. _Do not let this be how the book ends. Please God. Any other ending. Don't let my best girl's heart get shattered._"A week, next Saturday at the Stork Club."

"You got it." The words left the most bitter taste in his mouth. He would say it was bile if anything churning in his stomach would actually rise up.

A sob. He could hear her sob and he barely choked back his own. Opening his eyes, he stared at the frozen tundra coming towards him fast before looking to the compass. It was hard to breathe, from the acceleration or from the pain he couldn't tell.

"Eight o'clock on the dot. Don't you do dare be late." He found himself nodding numbly as she paused. "Understood?"

"You know, I still don't know how to dance." What feels like too long ago, years in these stretched spans of time, Peggy would have laughed. He could hear the sound in his head. He wanted it to be the last thing he heard.

"I'll show you how." The softest of smiles graced his lips as he stared at her picture, taking no note on how close to the ground he truly was. "Just be there."

Goodbye was only temporary.

"We'll have the band play something slow." It's not a real goodbye. Only until he sees her again. "I'd hate to step on your-" The impact was fast and unexpected. He was flung over the dashboard, belt catching on the controls and slamming him hard. He could taste blood in his mouth, that familiar taste he far too comfortable with.

There was no fire. There was no explosion. He could…well maybe he could actually get out of here. Pain sparked through him, jolting down his spine as he forced himself to stand fully. Broken rib. Or ribs. He wasn't sure but it wasn't good. Grasping onto the controls, he started to pull himself around them as the sound of rushing water caught his attention. A glance back told him all he needed to know as water began to rush into the tin deathtrap he was caught in.

Panic set in.

His heart began to beat with a ferocity he'd forgotten about as he yanked himself around the chair, grasping hard. The plane tilted forward, sinking further into the water. His legs gave way and he crumpled to the ground in a heap near the seat.

"It's only goodbye until I see you again." The words were murmured. He went to reach for the compass as the realization that he left on those damn controls. His breathing hitched as he tried to push himself up but his body only weighed him down. The sound of the rushing water was overtaking him, he felt dizzy, disoriented. What was up and what was down, well that he didn't know. The plane shifted again, the rear dropping towards the thick icy grave waiting. His arms gave out against him, the cool metal below his face gave him no comfort.

"Peggy," The sound was soft and broken. "I'm so sorry." His eyes fluttered shut as the tracks of tears trailing his face only got damper.

He'd run out of time. Goodbye was forever.


End file.
